Out of Sight but Not of Mind
by Hyperdrive 24
Summary: Joe might be out of her sight, but he was never out of her mind. Just one more time she wanted to feel safe, as safe as she had done when he was there.
1. Chapter 1

**So here is my first dabble into the new world of fanfiction for Man in the High Castle. Not many stories have yet to be written on this pairing, but I wish that it will grow, because i want to see what all you others out there will write for Joe/Juliana. I have only watched the first four episodes of season 2, so no giving away anything you might have already watched in that season in your reviews please ;)**

 **Do leave a review at the end. Ta!**

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Juliana Crain sat with her knees curled to her chest between the chest of draws and the wall. It was her usual place, her safe place. A chair was dragged into its constant rest against the handle of her front and only door. The bed was too soft for her, and from it she had been able to see the face of the man who started it all, looking coldly and disapprovingly at those forced to admire his portrait. She stayed there for most of her first night drowning in his stare and the unfamiliar cotton mattress, before she retreated to her corner. Her shoulder length hair veiled her face as she buried it into her knees, drawing them close to keep out the biting chill only she could feel.  
Juliana thought back to better times... Perhaps not better, but she had been more at peace back then than she was now. She thought of Frank and his touch, his smell. How it felt to lie beside him, knowing how the day would play. Wake up, work, dojo, shop, home, food, sleep. She missed the ignorance.  
Juliana's fists clenched and blood dripped from her palms. The smell of cigarettes and old worn leather and pine, filled her memory like a slow welcomed fog blocking out everything else. Frank slipped away, and a face, a less haunted face appeared. Less haunted maybe, but no lesser the feeler of pain. She thought. He had shared her pain, and she his. In such a short time, she had felt and experienced more things with the pine smelling, leather wearing, and cigarette smoking man. Within just over a week, she had been through more with him than she had had with her supposed lover in years.  
Joe Blake...  
Her fists clenched tighter. She had turned to the Reich. The Kempetai were after her like snakes, the Resistance chasing her like hounds and she was the frightened fox. She scurried from her den when they lit fires, driving her from home with choking smoke and guns. She had used Joe's name as her shield from bullets. She wanted to see him, to touch him and know he was still real, still alive. People were vanishing; he was not aloud to vanish too. He had held her in strong arms and said comforting words, it had been a lie, but at the time a lie was what she needed. She needed one now. She needed him to cover her shoulders with his leather pine smelling coat, to shield her against the harsh angry world around her. Nazi or no Nazi; he had been more real than any one else since before and after her time with him, since before she saw the film.  
"He fooled you too,"  
Cursed words! Poisoning her mind of what little clarity it had left, tainting her comforting fog; black tendrils spiralling and sneaking, seeking. She had walked down the steps, a fear of sudden dread... Would she never see him again? No, she doubted she would.  
The pain in her clenched, bleeding fists became so much that she had to let go, but a stubborn wilful part of her hung on still. Not to the fear neither the pain in her bloodied palms. No, but to the idea, the wish, the prayer, that he was still alive. Joe was still alive, and he would stay that way... And she _would_ see him again. She had too.  
The muscles of her stomach clenched and twisted. She wanted to be sick, but she was tired, too tired to move from her corner and wretch into the sink. Instead she leaned forwards, resting her feverish forehead against the side of the chest of draws. She breathed in the smell; pine. She breathed again, letting the faint scent wash over her like a soothing ripple on a troubled beach. She breathed again... And fell asleep.

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 **There we have it, short I know but it was typed up late at night as I was falling asleep. tell me what you think and that if you want more :) I have a min to do a little Joe POV for the next one it you would like? Leave a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**hiya all! thanks too all whom have reviewed. Here as promised is a chapter from Joe's POV it takes place in episode 5 season 2, so spoilers for these not there yet.**

 **a.a.k88 thanks so much for being the first to review!**

 **JLexee. I would have to agree with what you said about Joe's feelings, and I hope this chapter will show that. I haven't really done much on the private thoughts for him but I hope what is here will satisfy you. if not, you will just have to review again and tell me ;)**

 **Guest. here is more like requested, and thank you so much for your kind words.**

 **leave a review at the end. Ta!**

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Joe sagged against the wall, old wallpaper and paint faded and torn. Next to him was a child's cot, with forgotten doll; his birthplace, _his_ birthplace. He didn't believe it, he wouldn't believe it! It wasn't true, couldn't be true. But it was true and he was shattered, like glass by hammer. He curled in on himself, knees to chest and hands on head, sobbing, shuddering and shivering. The world had once again been turned on its head, flipped out from underneath his feet; first by the film, and now this?

"I believe you,"

Three words, three words, and his life had been saved. Now that life had been a lie, a sweet, sweet lie.  
Joe rested his head to his knees and linked his fingers behind the crown of his head. The smell of mould and decay surrounded him, suffocating him. Throbbing pain from split knuckles, a souvenir for punching the cement wall. A memory of holding a body smaller than his own to keep it from shattering very much the same was he was now. The memory might as well have been from a life time ago, and not the cruel two weeks it was. Where was the person to wrap their arms around him now when he needed it most?

Juliana Crain.

She burned with life. She moved on, strived ahead, not looking back. But for all he knew she could be dead. No, not dead, that was not allowed! She was stronger than that, he had seen it. Gradual it was but slowly the pain stopped to be replaced with numbness.  
Anger came later when he picked up the receiver.

"Did you know?"

Words spat out through clenched jaw.

"Yes,"

Wonder if he had known his voice was so close to the one person he could really talk to, what would he have done? To know she was only in the next room divided by a door of glass. That she could see John Smith talking to him but not hear the words. To know that she was chased by the Kempetai, had already been tracked by the resistance, being knowingly spied on by the Reich, and that her life now balanced on the tip of a needle. One wrong move and she would be killed on all three sides. What would he do? Would he fly back and try to be her shield as she had been his? He would do none of these things, because he did _not_ know. Hanging up the phone with a definitive finality, with his last words spoken, he would probably never know she was there until it was too late.  
Looking at the man he had resented for his entire life, and still did, Joe only wished with almost yearning, that he and Juliana had been able to keep driving in that van.  
That night when dusk had long fallen and dawn was drawing near, Joe woke with a start from a dream. The dream had made no sense, neither memory neither fear; it was of Juliana, alone. Slotted between wall and chest of draws, her hair was shorter, and body covered in cuts and busies. Her knees were tucked to her chest and she shivered. She looked like shattered glass, and no one was there to hold her, to pick up the pieces. Shivering in the dark she was, and he was unable to reach her, even though he had tried, he could only watch.  
Joe rubbed his eyes, trying to expel the images, they felt too real. Only a dream it was only a dream. But his gut twisted all the same, he felt sick. Please. He prayed. Please be alive.

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 **well there you have it readers, leave a review if you want me to do another chapter, and please feel free to share your thoughts, I love to hear them. x**


	3. Chapter 3

**OK hiya all! this chapter is longer because in it, it covers the events of episodes 6,7 and 8 of season 2, spoilers warning! for those not up to that bit yet. I'm watching the last two episodes tonight hehe XD**

 **I would Like to thank a.a.k88 I'm glad that you're enjoying the story so far!**

 **there should be another chapter tomorrow if all goes well. don't for get to leave a review at the end. Ta!**

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Joe lay back and watched as lights danced and turned to twisting ribbons, everything loosing focus but gaining clarity; dancing lights, swirling colours, bodies twisting into one. The clarity changed, freighting! He reached out for help as shapes shifted and became terrifying. Panic set in. Frantic, he searched the mist, and saw her...

She walked through the horrible haze like an ethereal spirit. Everything melted away as she glided through, solid, real but infinitely appearing out of reach; like a goddess was to a sinner. Calling her name she glanced back, dark hair flowing over slim, strong shoulders. She turned away from him, vanished further. He chased, he would not let her vanish, not again. Sinner pursuing spiritual purity, he followed in her wake as she broke the waves of blurring colours. With hand extended he found her waiting after madly chasing. She couldn't be real, it was a lie, but for once, perhaps for a last time, he wanted a lie, at least he got to see her sweet brave face, one last time. Joe choked on tears, tears he only felt brave enough to shed in the presence of her visage. She had died to save him, him… he was not worthy of her sacrifice. What was he doing to repay her? Taking drugs that meddled with his mind and going to parties. What could he do? Her concerned and comforting eyes held him, just as her arms shielded him for what he believed, the first and last time.

A perilous thin line she now walked. The Kempetai no longer her fear, but the Reich and the Resistance still chased, like hungry hounds. Backed into a corner the fox could only flinch away as the hounds snapped at her with sharp teeth. Death threatened only on two sides, but it was still death. She was a spy; a begrudging spy at first, now a guilty one. Thomas, a sweet boy, she was fond of his life and smile. But a new fear joined her others as his face drew blank and he vanished for long, long moments. She didn't say anything she promised silence to the boys mother, Helen, as she had to Lily. People were telling her secrets she wasn't asking for, however wasn't that her job now? To gather secrets? Loathing never a thing she craved but she felt it all the same... And pity. These people she pitied. One night, huddled in her corned with head resting against the chest of draws, she vanished into a strange place of dreams. She dreamed of him… Joe… Surrounded by twisting bodies fuzzy and greyed, he was in clear focus, like spring water. She walked away, without knowing why, only knowing it needed doing. It worked he called her name, he followed, she knew not why. Needing, yearning for him to be away from these strange people, so they may speak. She hardly said a word; let him pour his fears and regrets out to her listening mind. Their hands linked felt more real than when she was awake in daylight. If this was a dream, then she didn't object when their lips touched. She needed an escape, she needed a safe lie.

Waking with a start she bumped her head, touching fingers to lips, with a shuddering shake of her head. Death on both sides was back. Life was real, and dream fading fast. Time up; time to get up and smile for the cameras and be the perfect shy woman, be the perfect spy... She couldn't really remember whose spy she was.  
A smell of pine lifted her from her safe place, an invisible shield she pretended to wear, or did she pretend? Either way, she was glad it was there.

Saying it, saying it out loud, was like being shot with bullet and smoking gun.

"Her name was Juliana,"

 _Was_ , the word he had avoided for so, so long when thinking of her, but no longer could he. Time it was for him to stand up, to not let her death and her saving of his life be worthless. It was an insult to the memory of the strongest woman he had and would ever know. Strange things started to happen; things grew a new gravity and he was swept along with it, the currents taking him where they pleased. He waited…

"And I want you to go back there,"

Back? Back to New York? That would mean stepping back the way he came, it would be running away, fleeing!  
But the reasons why could they be true? or where they lies from a man he hardly knew. They were not. Joe charged back into the raging currents, perhaps missing the only chance he may get to go back to where _she_ was, where _she_ was living, fighting to survive! But he refused this, because he did not know, he believed a lie, and called the truth a lie in its stead, even though somewhere deep inside he didn't believe it, a speck of hope in a blackened world.  
"She died for me!"  
It ripped his heart out, and then ripped it out again. He could not breathe but he had to, he had to for _her_. Even dead she was holding him up, keeping him strong. That's what he thought as he watched the king of the Reich die; he felt nothing for his loss. It was her strength he drew from to fuel his own when he recited the oath. She may be dead to him, but she was never gone.

It was big, bigger than anything and it had started just from watching news real on the television, and a slip of gossip.

"Because there _is_ no new footage,"

Act, she had to act and she did faster than she knew was possible. The morning John had called on her; she knew the cameras were turned off as soon as he walked in. She had had no choice, she told him, everything poured out of her and she struggled to breathe, it was bigger than anything she had suspected. Hitler was dying. Now the Resistance knew, now her loved ones knew to leave that cursed city! If only she could reach Joe... But he was safe, safe and sound in Berlin. Please, please let him be safe too. The spinning wheels of the Resistance sprang into a flourish of action, and the Reich jumped onto the race horses. The hounds backed up from the fox, but the fox was now in the currents of a more dangerous game. It was happening much to fast, a haze, a blur. She had requested for Frank to be warned so he could leave, surely he would? But her thoughts for him were swept away in the waves of change. It was like the earth knew what was coming, and it was holding its breath. Juliana held hers with it... And the scent of leather and pine was right there with her, a feeble shield, but one was grateful for nonetheless, with the world she was in of fine clothes and perfect health, with the simmering volcano ready to burst under the surface, oh and it was ready! She could feel the tremors now. Juliana held her breath... And waited for the storm.

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 **So there you have it, till next time! feel free to leave your thoughts with me by writing a quick review! I would love to hear them. X**


	4. Chapter 4

**hi its finally here! the last chapter (SPOILERS FOR END OF SEASON 2!), 'til next season anyway ;) or when i decide to write some little chapters for the first season like i have done here :)**

 **anyway, enjoy, leave a review! TA!**

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He had received John Smith with cold hospitality, one would find from a blizzard. The man lied and lied; he lived in a sea of deceit. But he accepted him in and sat with him, scoffing when John tried to soften his mood with yet another lie of seeing him as family. John listed the people who would die if the acting führer was not stopped. Joe remained detached until her name was dropped like a stone in the stillest of ponds. The ripples turning to waves, crashing against his shores and dragging back into the harsh unpredictable currents. Breath stolen swiftly.

Alive! _Juliana_ was _alive_!

The waters spat him out and left him gasping as his world shattering all over again reverse, the pieces sliding back together, building him up anew. He looked John Smith in the face, and cursed him. He knew! He knew she had been alive all this time! Twisting, manipulating, and fogging his mind, so up and down were one in the same. He dived headlong back into the waters, this time stronger than he had felt in what seemed forever. Following the currents which had changed, he showed the tape to his father. However even that didn't stop the aged man. Not the magnitude of the destruction witnessed, not the lives that would be lost. He had only just learned that the woman he could not get out of his very bones was alive, the woman who had taken a piece of his heart which he never wanted back again. And his father was going to kill her all over again! If John had not returned with men marching to take hold of him and his father, he would have been leaping over the desk, talking the man to the ground, beating him to death if that was what needed to be done to protect her. But when he too was dragged away with his father, fear, terrible fear gripped him. People would think he was cursing and screaming for being arrested... He wasn't. Joe screamed and cursed and spat, because he was going to be taken further away from her. He needed to get to her; he needed to go back to New York. To think he could have gone back days ago and been with her... But then his father wouldn't have seen the film and they would both be dead... He wanted to want to have been with her for those days, but a larger part wanted to be with her for far longer than he would live. Was she still even alive? No! Poison! She was alive, and she would stay that way until she died in his arms, which he would never, with every breath left, allow to happen. Lead away he was, but live to fight another day, he would. He had a new drive, a new purpose... See her again, hold her again; find Juliana; his single thought left. The fogs and mist and swirling colours, fine clothes and extravagant home, and wavy blonde hair were all replaced by light blue eyes and dark straight hair.

Juliana Crian.

As he lived and breathed he would find her, and never let her go. She had been out of his sight, but she was never out of his mind. Now he planned to change that. He never planned to let her go. He would rather die.

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 **There you have it? whether you read it as it was coming out day by day, or you have just read it as a job-lot all in one go, do leave me your comments and fan theories in a quick review! X**


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